


The Super, Collosal, Bona Fide,  Disaster Crisis

by ladiekatie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is an uncle, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Stiles just moved out, and his new neighbor is hot™, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladiekatie/pseuds/ladiekatie
Summary: “I have a crisis Allison. A bona fide, genuine, unadulterated, legitimate doomsday crisis, and you’re willing to just shoo me away? Wow Ally, I thought we were better friends than that,” Stiles moves around the sofa and plops down in what used to be his spot.Allison huffs out a sigh and sits down on the couch far away from Stiles. Scott managed to find a shirt and brings it over his head as he asks, “what is your crisis Stiles?”“Bro,” Stiles brings up his hands to his head and leans back on the couch staring at the ceiling, “my new neighbor is hawt.”or the one where Derek is the new hot neighbor and there are Dating Your New Hot Next Door Neighbor protocols that need to be followed... or do they?





	The Super, Collosal, Bona Fide,  Disaster Crisis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Come2findme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Come2findme/gifts).



> Finally!!! a new thing that is short and not continually expanding to longer and more complex stories!!!  
> I've been writing, I promise, I just haven't wanted to post anything in a while but here is this based on a real thing that happened to me except mom friend Cricket told me to do it. Anyway have fun!!

“Stop what you’re doing and listen to my ultra, super, mega, doomsday crisis,” Stiles yells as he lets himself into Scott and Allison’s apartment. Allison quickly gets off of Scott’s lap and pulls her shirt closed.

“Stiles!” Scott yells standing up and covering Allison with his own naked chest. 

“Oh please, you act like I literally haven’t caught you having sex on the sofa when I lived here.”

“What are you doing here Stiles?” Allison asks from behind Scott, peaking over his shoulder. 

“I have a  _ crisis _ Allison. A bona fide, genuine, unadulterated, legitimate doomsday  _ crisis,  _ and you’re willing to just shoo me away? Wow Ally, I thought we were better friends than that,” Stiles moves around the sofa and plops down in what used to be his spot. 

Allison huffs out a sigh and sits down on the couch far away from Stiles. Scott managed to find a shirt and brings it over his head as he asks, “what is your crisis Stiles?”

“Bro,” Stiles brings up his hands to his head and leans back on the couch staring at the ceiling, “my new neighbor is  _ hawt _ .”

“You drove 45 minutes in rush hour traffic to tell us your new neighbor is hot? And this is your crisis? The crisis that broke up the sex we were about to have?” Allison asks.

“Yes Ally. This is important,” Stiles looks back up to stare at Allison and Scott. 

“You know, you could have easily texted me this,” Scott says.

“No, I really couldn’t have. His name is Derek and he is hotter than the sun. He has black hair, the most amazing green eyes, adorable bunny teeth and his grip strength has brought many men pleasure going by his handshake. We’re going to have a June wedding, I know that’s like  _ the _ month to get married, but only the best for Mr. and Mr. Derek and Stiles Stilinski hyphen his last name.”

“You’re nuts,” Allison says as she stands and walks out of the room. 

“Once again, Allison Argent proving how much a bad friend she is in my hour of need,” Stiles deadpans. 

“So just ask him out,” Scott suggests like the sweet summer child he is.

“Scottiford, I’m pretty sure there are Dating Your New Hot Next Door Neighbor protocols I have to work my way through before I get so bold as to ask him out.”

Scott roles his eyes. “And what would those protocols be exactly?”

“Phase one would be casual conversation. Phase two is innocent flirting. Phase three is getting to know. Phast four is -”

“The only protocol I know of is you need to bake cookies and then ‘OH NO I DIDN’T REALIZE THE RECIPE WAS FOR A DOUBLE BATCH WOULD YOU LIKE SOME?’,” Allison says deciding to rejoin them. 

“Would that even work?” Scott asks. 

“I can’t do that. There are… protocols.”

“When have the protocols ever worked?” Allison crosses her arms over her chest.

“They worked for Monica and Chandler!” Stiles tries to argue.

“Those are  _ fictional characters _ Stiles. This is real life. Things like that don’t just happen, you have to make them happen, and add extra chocolate chips,” Allison says, Scott is just staring at her like she hung the moon, or maybe that’s just his face now. You know what they say, if you keep making that face it’ll stick like that.

“What if we start dating and then we break up? What are we supposed to do? We’re next door neighbors! I signed a year long lease!”

“You’ll figure something out,” Scott says.

“Or worse, what if we get married and have to rent two apartments until one of our leases is up?”

“You need to stop worrying so much, you’ll get grey hair sooner than you’d like,” Allison replies.

“You love birds are no help,” Stiles decides and stands up from the couch and walks out the door. 

 

Stiles definitely does  _ not _ google chocolate chip cookies at a red light. And the trip the to grocery store is because he needs bread and milk okay? If the ingredients for the cookies make it in to his cart he’s not just going to leave them in some random place like an asshole. 

 

The cookies come out  _ amazing. _ Stiles thinks if he wasn’t so full on raw cookie dough he’s eat them all in one sitting. But these aren’t for him. 

The awkward shared little porch is not nearly far away enough for Stiles to gather nerves. This is dumb, why is he doing this? It’s literally some quick cookies off of some desperately lonely house spouse's baking blog. Stiles debates the moral complexities of eating one more cookie and then that being one less cookie to woe Derek with when Derek’s door opens. 

He’s walking out with a gym bag over his shoulder and  _ of course this perfect human being doesn’t want cookies. _ What should he do with his hands? Shit what do normal people do with their hands? 

“Oh, hey,” Derek says, “Stiles right?” 

“Um yeah, that’s me, Stiles. It’s weird and that’s why it’s easy to remember. Or forget, people forget my name a lot to. But I’d much rather be named Stiles than like Brad or something. I know too many assholes named Brad. But Brad is different than Hunter you know? Like I don’t think I’ve met a Hunter that was older than 13. Hunters only exist between the ages of like 7 and 13 and then they go back into the void.” Stiles cannot get himself to shut the fuck up. 

“Yeah, it’s definitely different,” Derek replies and honestly Stiles wants some old southern grandmother to bless his heart. 

“So, uhh, you off to the gym?” Stiles asks, still holding the plate with both hands like an idiot. 

“Um no. I’m actually going to go watch my sister’s kids for a couple nights. She’s going out of town for business and the girls have school and stuff,” Derek adjusts the bag on his shoulders.

“Perfect!” Stiles yells and then shoves the plate of cookies at Derek. The absolute dream boat just looks at the plate without moving towards taking it. “Shit. I just meant that, I made these and the batch was reciped wrong and now there’s too many. And kids should eat these you know?”

“Oh,” Derek looks down to the plate and then back up at Stiles, “are you sure?”

“Totes,” Stiles wants to punch himself in the dick, “yeah for sure. Of course take them. I have like, 81 in my fridge.”

“Wow, that batch did recipe wrong,” Derek says and the noise that comes out of Stiles’ mouth is ungodly and something left over from the days he was a literal ameba. Shame fills Stiles so fast it shifts is gravity and makes him fall clumsily on his door and slip inside before he can do anymore damage . He has no idea what happened in that moment, but all he knows is that he will never be able to talk to Derek again. 

And he lost a plate, fuck. 

 

Three days later, Stiles is sitting at his desk making time for his seminar paper when there comes a knock on the door. He had ordered a pizza about an hour ago, so he gets the cash he counted out and walks to the door. 

Except it is not the pizza guy at the door. It’s Derek. 

“Hi Stiles,” Derek says looking as gorgeous as ever. Stiles just stands there with cash in his hands. “Stiles?” 

Stiles shakes his head and replies, “hey Derek! What- What’s up?” He tries to lean cooly on the doorframe but only manages to miss and slam his head into the frame instead. 

“Ow, you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m gooooood,” just kill him now. 

“Well I wanted to give your plate back,” Derek sticks the plate out between them. “The girls liked your cookies. And this plate seemed important,” Stiles looks down to the plate. It’s one that is sun painted in classic kindergarten style and a tiny version of his hand. The top edge says ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ clearly written by an adult with the year 1999 on the bottom edge. He hadn’t even noticed he gave that plate away. 

“Oh my god, thanks,” Stiles takes the plate and hugs it to his chest. “My dad would have killed me if I lost this plate. Especially after the grief I gave him to let me have this thing.” He tries very hard to ignore the tears in his eyes. 

“It’s no problem, seems like something you’d want back,” Derek’s hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans, though Stiles doesn’t know how because they look tigh. “The girls really liked your cookies. They said they wanted more, I told them you had 81 more so they’re expecting at least 24 more.” Derek smiles and it makes Stiles butthole flutter, well no it doesn’t because biology doesn’t work like that, but if this was fanfiction Stiles butthole would definitely be flutter right about now. 

“Oh yeah sure. Umm, slight problem though. I may or may not have lied about the exact number of extra cookies I had. I had slightly less than 81. And by slightly I mean I didn’t have any.”

“You made those cookies for me?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you but I just ended up making a complete fool of myself and losing my chance with you forever. S’no big deal,” Stiles tries to shrug it off.

“What if I told you I ate all those cookies on the drive to hang out with my nieces and wanted more for me?”

“I’d be shocked because people like you don’t eat cookies.”

“I don’t, but I’ll eat your cookies anytime.” Stiles is pretty sure he slammed his head harder than he thought because this has to be a coma dream. 

“If this is a dream, I’m going to throw myself into the ravine.”

“Stiles would you maybe like to go see a movie with me?”

“But whose apartment would we live in?”

“What?”

“No nothing nevermind. Yes! I would love to see a movie with you!”

“Great, I guess- umm- I guess I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

“Sounds great,” Stiles says slowly backing into his apartment. Derek turns to walk towards his own door and looks over his shoulder and smiles and oh shit Stiles is already in too deep.

Stiles closes the door and sinks down to the floor, his plate still clutched in his hands. He pulls out his phone and sends a new message to the group chat. 

‘Oh shit that cookie shit really works!’

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?!? Leave a comment and a kudos to let me know!


End file.
